What You Have to Do
by Patricia de Lioncourt
Summary: Set after the Buffy comics' arch, Wolves at the Gate. Dracula laments some of the things giving up his dark gifts mean for him.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Castlevania. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Castlevania and related characters belong to Konami. No money made.

**A/N:** My first fic to be set directly after one of the Buffy comics. It's been a while since I've read Wolves, but I don't draw too much detail from it. Oh, and there are spoilers for what happens in that arch, just so you're warned. Please enjoy!

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**What You Have to Do**

"I didn't think you would visit," he said, not bothering to turn to greet the new arrival.

Xander gave a half-hearted chuckled as he shrugged. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans—old castles were much draftier than a place with central heat and air, though he should have been used to it by now.

"I didn't think I would either," he said, his one eye focused on the tall man with long, white-blond hair that hung to midway down his black cape. "By the way, digging the new hair color. Decided to go with a more summer look?"

The man turned, his pale, pointed features smiling as he stared at Xander. Most men would have trembled if such a glance had been passed to them. And, once upon a time, Xander had. But not anymore. Now, it was like they were… friends was too strong. But "acquaintances" was too weak. Maybe there wasn't a word for what they were.

"I'd forgotten that you've never seen me in this form. I travel between many dimensions, Alexander, and in one of them, this is the face they call Dracula."

"Huh. Multidimensional vampires. Remind me to tell Buffy when I head back to Scotland," he said, entering farther into the sitting room.

Dracula swept his cape behind him, revealing that he was dressed in a finery no longer seen. His coat and slacks were cut as if they came out of the 1700s, and they were black, hemmed in crimson.

"What brings you here? I know that you aren't really as fond of me as you pretend to be. Besides, shouldn't you still be mourning the loss of your slayer friend?"

Xander paused. It hadn't been more than a week since Renee's death, and he was still feeling it. But, in what he considered to be his bravest move yet, he shook it off, and continued to approach the dark lord of the vampires.

"I'm here because I want to know why."

Dracula arched a pale brow, running a hand over his peppered, well-groomed beard.

"What do you mean?"

Xander shrugged and pulled out a chair at the long table that ran down the center of the posh room. He leaned back and shrugged again.

"I want to know why you did it. Any of it. Why you gave up your powers for us. Why you had _my_ back during the big fight. And yeah," he said, waving a dismissive hand, "I know. _Nobody steals from Dracula_, blah, blah, blah. But that's an awful lot to give up just because some bully stole your toys. Those gifts were some no other vampire has ever had. You said so yourself, that you were their dark guardian, or whatever. So, why? I guess you could say it's been bugging me."

Dracula put his back to Xander once more, sighing. "There are many things you don't know about me, Xander. _This_ world, this one with the slayers in… this is not the one I call home. It is simply one of many that I frequent often. But I grew fond of it, fond of being the only one of my kind with such _gifts_."

Xander's brow furrowed as he leaned forward. "That still doesn't explain why you gave up those powers. For the good guys, no less."

Dracula chuckled, turning and leaning down on the opposite end of the table. "Is this truly what brings you all this way?"

"Yeah. It is."

The vampire eyed him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.

"Very well. In the dimension I call home, I have a son. And though he fights against me, I love him dearly. In your own way, Xander, you reminded me of him."

"A son? Oh, please tell me his name isn't Dracula Jr. or something."

Dracula shook his head. "No. His name is Adrian, though he frequently goes by the name Alucard. Honestly, there is much difference in the two of you… but your courage, your conviction… that's where you remind me."

"And that's why you helped us?"

"Yes."

Xander nodded, digesting those words. Finally, he stood.

"One more question, before I go."

"Haven't I played along enough recently?"

Xander grinned. "Granted, but just one more, promise. You seemed… sad, when you left. Sadder than just losing those powers. And now I know you have a son in some other world somewhere. Does you giving up those powers mean… that you'll never see him again?"

Dracula smiled sadly. "You are much wiser than you seem. Yes. In my home world, I am bound to be resurrected every hundred years or so. Sometimes, when my dark servants become impatient, it is earlier. But mostly, it is every hundred years. Most believe I am confined to Hell when I am destroyed there. However, I merely shift to another dimension to bide my time. Now… without those powers, I can never be called home again."

Xander nodded. "All for us? All because I remind you of your son?"

Dracula looked up, and locked his gaze with Xander's.

"Sometimes, you do what you have to do for the ones you care about. I believe you know what I mean."

Xander huffed. "Don't I."

He turned then, making his way back out of the manor Dracula had claimed as his own. The vampire lord stood, his head cocked just so slightly to the side.

"That's all then?"

Xander stopped just at the door. "Yeah. Told you. I just wanted to know why."

Dracula grinned. "Very well. Until next time, manservant."

Xander laughed, pushing open the door. "Yes, master."


End file.
